Love Me Dead
by Moi Fah
Summary: Brought over from AO3 by request, a PWP story of Tony and the Notepad (referred to as Paige) as promised for all the DHMIS fans. Originally published on 1-22-14.


_**A/N: By popular demand, brought over from AO3, probably one of the first if not the first lemon story for DHMIS. Originally published 1-22-14 on AO3.**_

_**Title: Love Me Dead**_

_**Topic: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (by thisisitcollective)**_

_**Pairings/ Characters: Padlock (Tony the Talking Clock x Notepad (Paige))**_

_**Rating: M**_

_**Warnings: Smut/PWP, personal headcanons, horrible rhymes, humanized characters, potential 'gorey' mentions/moments**_

_**Writing Prompt: "Up against the wall"**_

_**(HICKORY DICKORY DOCK I MADE THEM DO THE TICK TOCK)**_

* * *

"You're annoying as hell and drive me up a wall...but hold on tight, I don't want you to fall."

Inky, dark hands that dripped black droplets snaked around his neck, allowing him to easily wind his own up underneath her legs and hoist her into the air. That eyesore of a dress, the white one she'd scribbled designs all over in the name of 'creativity' wasn't hard to get around and he decided he wouldn't tear for it now. He'd save that for later, perhaps, during another one of their attempts on each others lives. It should make for an interesting time.

For once, she appeared to be speechless, her high-pitched voice caught in her throat for some reason or another but that's the way he preferred it. Lately, her voice had been grating on his nerves and earlier he'd tried to cut out her vocal chords with one of his clock hands that he'd fashioned into the semblance of a sword. Of course, with both of them being 'immortal' so to speak, it didn't really do much to deter her. Still, Tony found her most tolerable when all she could do was whimper and murmur beneath him. With an abrupt thrust upward, he ground his crotch into hers and made her moan, his forming erection rubbing against her own ready sex.

"Tony...please...don't be such a tease." she managed between short little breaths, hitched ones that made his already crooked grin grow larger. He pressed closer against her, forcing her even more into the wall as he reached a hand up to grab a handful of those absurdly colored locks. Using his inhuman strength to stabilize her with his other hand, he harshly pulled her closer and smashed their lips together. It was more so an attack, than a kiss, and she frantically put her own hands up to fend him off. Using those lithe, black fingers that hid dangerously sharp nails (almost akin to a pen's tip), she clawed at his own dark hair and blue-tinted face. When this failed, she tried to pull away but all too soon found her head meeting the wall behind her, simultaneously earning a grin from Tony. He didn't have to force her mouth open to fully taste her, her tongue more than willing to dance with his own. There, he could sense it, feel it, her jaw tensing up...

In the nick of time, he pushed them apart, just as Paige's teeth clamped close with an audible snap.

"How dare you, you wretched harlot. Try that again and I promise you'll see scarlet."

Paige only giggled in response and licked her lips, admittedly already missing the taste of that time-loving twat. "Come now Tony, you know I don't bite hard. And let's be honest, you're not all that scarred. Still, I suppose, as long as it's not green, then perhaps scarlet wouldn't be that obscene?" It wasn't a secret that they often made threats to kill each other, or at the very least cause pain. Tony could see it in her eyes, that was a threat meant for him and she was definitely out for blood tonight, not that that made much of a difference from any other night when the two of them were together. If he didn't know any better, she was practically begging to shove that pencil she favored so much into one of his eye sockets.

Still, they had a deal. She'd lost their last fight, having gone down to a decapitation by the clock hand sword which meant she had to give in to him. There were times when he'd let her win, if only to see her on top and to see just how 'creative' she could get. But this was his show and he'd wasted plenty of time already...something he would be sure to remedy.

In the blink of an eye, they were pressed together again, but this time it would be different. He roughly guided her on how he wanted her to stand; inky hands pressed firmly against the wall while her body was set parallel to the floor, ass stuck into the air at just the angle he desired. Clothing articles were removed with Paige abandoning her underwear just to the right of her ankles while Tony fumbled with his belt before freeing himself from his pants that stayed haphazardly bunched about his knees.

With his teeth, he pulled off one of his white gloves and abruptly slammed two now-free fingers into her. He removed them almost instantly much to her chagrin, at least, if the noise she made was any indication in the matter. They were wet and slimy...she needed no help, and he couldn't resist making a remark on just how lewd she'd become since they'd begun this little game of theirs. Still, he enjoyed teasing her...torturing her, forcing her to wait until the last possible moment to cum or sometimes even on his own command. His own body is screaming at him to take what's his, but Tony knows he has to see her reaction, hear it, when he rubs himself against her.

She growls again and attempts to turn her head to see him, albeit hindered by her position. It's just how he wants it. She orders him, practically demands for him to move. Tony knows he's in charge, but that high-pitched, lilting, accented voice...beautiful...it was driving him insane. Clutching at her hips even harder than before, he enters her completely with a lustful groan. Paige jerks her body in response, letting out a mixed mewl of pain and pleasure from darkened lips. The force he used is what pains her the most and she can't help but let a few whimpering sobs release from her mouth; after all, if nothing else, the ability to feel pain was what assured them that they were actually human.

Tony doesn't wait for her, knows she doesn't need it as they've done this countless times before at both of their requests. It was an odd love, if you could call it that. They'd cohabit normally for a time, then something sparked between them that brought on a playful fight that normally ended with missing limbs, blood puddles, and the occasional 'mini-death'. The two would then spring right back to life, as if someone had hit a rewind or replay button, and they'd go about their lives. Of course, they often added a bit more fun to their fight...whosoever won got the right to take the loser how they pleased and of course, the loser never minded a bit. With that firmly in mind, he still starts out his thrusting into her at a slow pace.

Gods how he loved this torture...these little 'exercises', if you would, in 'time management'. If Paige (and admittedly himself) could prove herself patient enough, then he'd give her what she wanted. What they both wanted...needed. If he were weaker, he would have fucked her clean into the wall by now, but had retained enough sanity to draw it out for his own twisted desires and dare he say fetishes. Every passing moment, his thrusts sped up and any pain that was still felt simply receded away into pleasure. Beneath him, Paige's voice was small but still audible and sang sweet little moans at his ministrations, ones that grew louder it seemed as time went on.

She felt good, body tight even after all this time had passed...gripping him hard. Like with everything he did, the two fell into a rhythm, his rhythm. It was an odd rhythm though as she was still, in her own way, trying to fight against him. Perhaps she still thought she could gain dominance over him? He grinned, that same crooked smile, before leaning closer to her ear and whispering, "Now don't you see, you need to move with me...this is truly how we should be." His voice was deeper then, quieter and sultry, and even the demented, little Paige couldn't resist him. How could she when he was holding her like that? His hands dug into her hips as he continued to stay bent over her as he pounded into her.

Paige didn't bother trying to fight him anymore, it just felt too good. Her hands tried desperately to cling to the wall in front of her, but the smooth surface met her hands with no resistance and they continued to slip downward. Every thrust was definitely bringing him deeper inside of her, the force of their fucking rocking them both back and forth, the two practically losing themselves in the warmth and friction of each other.

Another sharp cry from her filled the otherwise silent room, her body convulsed harshly, muscles squeezing down hard one instant, only to relax the next. Paige moaned, her voice and mannerisms exhilarated, as she came, quickly attempting to make Tony do the same lest he become angry with her. Although off-put for a split second, he found himself giving into it, cum shooting off hard inside of her. It filled her up, tiny dribbles making their way down out of her. It had coated his dick and stuck to her thighs, despite all her wiggling now that he'd released his harsh grip on her waist. She wasn't free yet, as he pushed once more to finish up.

She felt her legs wobble, all strength she'd once had to hold herself up with now completely gone. Paige breathed heavily as her tiny chest restricted by her white dress rapidly pushed in and out in an attempt to gain more breath. Slowly, she allowed herself to slip down the wall until she sat in nothing more than a heap on the floor; her two skirts, white and red, making an odd circular shape around her as she went down. Behind her, she could hear his just as heavy breathing and the familiar sound of a belt buckle. She hated losing to him in all honesty, and it made it that much worse when your opponent was just as strong as you were. The results were a toss up each time. Next time though, she'd get him for sure...in fact...

Paige almost shyly lifted her head and crooked it over her shoulder to see him. As per usual for Tony, he'd put himself back together in an orderly fashion, sword effortlessly replaced at his side with his coat holding nary a wrinkle or ink smudge courtesy of her. It was almost...scary how well he was able to do that. She watched as he regained his composure and placed his arms folded behind his back in a fashion reminiscent of a military stance before he spoke, "Did you cum before me? Now that's going to be trouble..." he trailed off, pausing ever so slightly to help her up from the floor; the tension that filled the room then could practically be cut with a knife. "But don't worry, my dear..." Strangely, he paused again until his face was a mere breath away from hers, "...I'll still make time to cuddle."

Damn him, she cursed internally...she hated him so much. And yet she loved him. She loved him to death...to death. With a 'swoosh', motion slicing through the air audible, she'd jammed a pencil up and into the side of his neck. Both stood still for what it was worth, teeth gritted in response to some emotion whether it be pain or simply the feeling of adrenaline rushing.

Tony supposed he could let her win this time, decision promptly made as the pencil was pulled out and blood spurted from the wound. Reactively, he reached to grab the small laceration as Paige pushed him down to the ground and delivered stab by stab to his chest, through the thick material of his coat. These little wounds stung of course, but they would always heal up immediately. If she did manage to kill him with this, he could only dream that his first waking sight would be her strangling him with his own bow-tie and riding him firmly into next week.


End file.
